


All The Things We Cannot See

by LoneStar



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Flirting, BAMF!Bilbo, BIlbo can kinda see the future?, Basically everyone from the movies, Bromance, Emotionally Constipated Bilbo, Eventual Happy Ending, Everybody Lives, Fluff and Angst, Foreshadowing, Friends to Lovers, Gandalf sees through your shit, Hurt/Comfort, I hope, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Ratings may change, Slow Burn, The company is oblivious, Timeline Shenanigans, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-09 03:58:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11661165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoneStar/pseuds/LoneStar
Summary: Bilbo dreams of dragon fire and a kingdom lost in an instant. Alone and craving answers, he goes to find them. He can't explain his dreams, but maybe he can prevent them...





	1. Busy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo wakes, a dream stuck in his mind. When it becomes clear it's not going to go away, he decides to investigate and make the most of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is my first time writing for The Hobbit. I'm fiddling around a bit with time and how the company comes to be, but more on that later. I hope you enjoy!

_**Screams cut through the smoke, mixing with the roaring of dragonfire. The air is hot, too hot, too deadly. Before you know it, you were pulling an old and overdecorated dwarf from the ramparts, pushing him behind a pillar as fire scorches the stone you'd been standing on moments before. A mighty rumble shakes the city as the dragon crashes into the mountain, stone arches collapsing to rubble and blocking the exit. There is nowhere to go.** _

  
    Bilbo woke with a start, sweat glistening on his forehead as he realized that no, he was not burning alive. He looked around, grateful to see wood paneling and soft decor in place of the hard stone, the cold halls, and the cracks and crevices of a kingdom fallen. Bilbo was no stranger to odd and distressing dreams, but this was new. That was the 1st time he'd dreamed of the mountain, of the dragon, of the dwarf and the hopelessness the situation was steeped in. He refused to let it get to him, but he was fighting a losing battle.  
  
As he got up and prepared for the day, he tried pushing the dreams to the back of his mind in favor of preparing an omelette. As the eggs cracked and the ham and cheese were added, he couldn't shake the feeling there was something he was missing. Something important.  
  
    He tried to shrug it off, but as he sat down and prepared to bite into his well-deserved breakfast, he remembered: something he had read in one of the texts he'd collected from a ranger in Bree. It had shown a dragon.  
  
    Rushing from the dining room, he raced through the labyrinthian halls of Bag End to his study, pulling on the sliding ladder as his eyes scanned the shelves. His eyes alit on the royal blue binding and the foreign characters decorating the side, and he pulled it out, marking the spot it'd been. He collapsed into an armchair situated in the corner, the massive tome flopping open in his lap as he flipped through the pages.  
  
    There, near the end: A terrifying artists rendition of a dragon, curled around a shining pile of treasure as a city burns in the background. As he scanned the pages for anything recognizable, Bilbo was dismayed to see that there were no words he could recognize, much less letters he could make out in this sharp and angular script. The book in his hands was immensely thick, and as full of drawings as it was with words. But there was evidently very little on dragons, and there was nothing else Bilbo could get out of it. He'd have to look elsewhere.  
  
But where?  
  
    Only one person came to mind: his late mothers old friend, Gandalf the Grey. The kindly wizard, showing up every summer with fireworks and mead, bringing spirits up. He'd been there when the harshest winter the Shire had seen in decades descended on the rolling green hills and pastures. Along with the rangers, they'd tried their best to help as friends and family all around him succumbed to the cold, to starvation, to the savagery of nature. They couldn't save his own mother from being torn apart by wolves while protecting him. Sure, they prevented many deaths, but the losses were too numerous to count that winter as anything other than a tragedy.  
  
    It mattered little to him anymore. Gandalf had stayed by his side until that next spring, once the river had thawed and the wolves had retreated. And although the following harvest was bountiful,  the damage had been done. Soon enough, there were no more knocks on his door. No more letters in his mailbox. Nothing to bring him back to the world he lost. He couldn't imagine where Gandalf would be now, nor anyone else he could get this information from...except...  
  
    Rivendell. The elves of the Last Homely House had been dear friends of his mother, playing with her in her youth, and even a few times as an adult. Bilbo, as a fauntling, had even had the joy of meeting these tall and serene creatures himself, following after his mother. It had been many years, and he had no clue how long it might take to get there, but he couldn't imagine anywhere else he could get the information he sought. It was high time he made a visit back, anyways.  
  
    Bilbo scoured through his study, pulling up pricing documents and examining maps and drawing together a supply list, the omelette long since gone cold many rooms away. There was much work to be done, and very little time to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that this chapter was rather dismally short, but trust me, they'll get longer. I know there's not much to critique/kudos/comment on yet, but they are greatly appreciated and give me life regardless.  
> Up next: Bilbo realizes that just upping and leaving won't work how he thought. Will it stop him? No.


	2. Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo heads off to the market, stocking up on supplies for the journey ahead. He runs into characters both welcome and unsavory, and prepares for tomorrows departure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2nd chapter is up! As promised, it's a bit longer, although they'll get longer still. I won't generally update this frequently, but the chapters will be noticeably longer and ideally a more smooth read. Hope you enjoy.

The sun was high in the sky when Bilbo sat back in his chair with a satisfied groan, his desk littered with papers and his cheeks rosy, signs of the past few hours productivity. The air of the study had gone stale ages ago, but he didn't dare open the window for fear that all of his hard work and papers would go flying off. He'd more or less decided exactly what to bring, and he was rather certain he'd estimated the costs accurately. All that was left was to have a nice lunch and then head off to the market.

As Bilbo traipsed through the halls of Bag End, he checked on his pantries to be sure he had enough to last not only for the trip, but the return. He found them to be overflowing as usual, but he feared for the food that could go bad. The berries and tomatoes and green beans he'd picked a few nights prior would go bad before he was halfway to Rivendell, and that just wouldn't do. He'd have to find some use for them, and fast.

He continued to ponder on this as he prepared, ate, and cleaned up his lunch, still wondering as he walked out of the smial and into the emerald expanses of the Shire. Bilbo was so stuck in his own head that he hardly noticed when he walked straight into the back of a rather broad and hard figure.

"Apologies, I wasn't pa-"

Bilbo stuttered to a halt as he glanced up into the face of none other than Hamfast Gamgee, his gardener and dearest friend. He knew exactly what to do with all that surplus now.

"Oh! Hamfast, how good it is to see you! I was just wondering if maybe you'd like to come over later tonight with Bell and the kids? I'm afraid I'll be leaving for a bit and I'd hate to let good food go to waste."

Hamfast was watching him politely, his lips quirking up at the edges as he waited in patient silence for to Bilbo finish talking.

"Tha'd be right agreeable, Misser Baggins. Bell n' I always did love yer cookin'. Migh' I ask why you got such a need for this food to go? Ya said yer leavin'?"

Hamfast had tensed at the end, an obvious sign of discomfort and fear on the hobbits part. Bilbo was silent for a moment, reminiscing on his history with the gaffer. He was suddenly a little less eager to go out, if only because he had such a good friend here in the form of Hamfast. And oh, how he'd hate to cause him worry.

"Oh please, you know you can call me Bilbo. We've known each other for years...and, well, yes. I'm afraid I am. I've got some rather pressing things I wish to research over in Rivendell, things I doubt I'll find anywhere around here, or even Bree. No worries though, I'll only be gone for a little over a week or so, if I can help it"

The gaffers face broke into a warm smile as he nodded his assent, at ease once more.

"Aight, well. We'd be happy to come, and if there's anything ya need help with fer yer trip, jus' say the word."

Bilbo nodded and scurried off, heart sinking a bit at the thought of being away from his friend for so long. After all, this will doubtless be the longest excursion he's been out on in the past year, maybe more. But he was independent enough, and he still wished to figure out his blasted dream as soon as possible. So go he must.

Bilbo was close to the end of his shopping spree, having just finished buying oil for his lamp and some food for his pony when he saw a gaudy red streak fast approaching in his peripherals. He knew who it was before he even turned to look at her.

"Lobelia, how're you this fine day?"

The woman in red scoffed, waving the question off in favor of her own.

"What might you be preparing for? Travel lantern? Horse feed? A BEDROLL? Is the great Bilbo Baggins leaving?'

Her voice got louder and louder as she talked, until the entire market had stopped to stare upon hearing that he was "leaving".

"You'd be correct in your assumptions, Lobelia. But I'm rather busy at the moment and haven't got the time to stand and chat, so, if you'll excuse me-"

But she wasn't having any of it.

"Where could you possibly be going? You've barely left the shire in months, save Bree. Have you finally gotten yourself a lass? Or perh-".

Although Bilbo had been flustered at first, this was getting old fast.

"Where I'm headed is none of your business, Miss Sackville-Baggins. But if you really must know, I'm off to help Gandalf with an adventure!"

He said that last part with a flourish, happy to see her go plum purple as her face contorted in indignation, struggling for a response. She had some nerve, sticking her large nose into his business. So what if he told a little lie? It stopped the conversation right there with a smirk, and Bilbo took pride in Lobelia, spluttering and red-faced, as he turned and took his supplies to Bag-End, whispers and stares chasing his back.

The feast that night was extravagant, second only to those held under the Party Tree, or of the vast banquets of the Summer Festival. Bell and Hamfast were more than happy to take the endless leftovers home with them, but Bilbo would be lying if he said he didn't catch the concern on their faces, nor in their voices, as they talked afterwards.

"An adventcha? With Gandalf? You never said anything about tha'!'

"No, I didn't, because it was a lie. Lobelia was being quite bothersome and I'd found I'd had enough of it."

"But who'll watch the house while yer gone? We'd be more 'an willing to do so."

Bell nodded her agreement, eyes wide in awe as Bilbo shook his head and told them of his true reason for leaving.

"If it'll bring ya peace, s'all I can wish for. Jus' know that m'offer still stands...best o' luck Bilbo!"

And so they parted ways, Bilbo doing some last-minute tidying up before he hit the sheets. He was eager to leave at first light, so he might have the most time on the road. If he was lucky, he'd run into a ranger by the end of the first day, and have somewhat of a traveling companion. He must admit he wasn't looking forward to going so far alone.

That night, Bilbo dreamed again. But rather than find himself caught up in smoke and dragonfire, he wound up somewhere wholly different...

_**You're riding horseback, leading a group of dwarves. The one beside you is a brunette, dark hair cascading down the sides of his head, unbraided. His face is angular and lined with stubble, and his body is lean and wiry underneath a sturdy fur coat and a bow.** _

_**The birds are singing and the path is winding along the rivers edge. You throw back your head, breathe in the air, and smile. You're about to comment, but take pause when you've noticed the birds have stopped singing. In fact, all the sound has stopped, and the silence is deafening, unwelcoming. You share a look with the dwarf beside you, and as you look into those russet eyes, the need to protect rises within you.** _

_**Something is nearby...something dangerous.** _

_**An arrow goes screaming past your head, missing your ear by mere inches. You turn in shock, a battle cry rising in your throat as orcs pour from the trees. You draw your sword and dagger, and the battle starts.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens...  
> Well, hope you enjoyed that 2nd chapter, I know I did. Don't hesitate to critique so I can improve, and of course, I'm not one to shy away from kudos.
> 
> Up next: Bilbo begins his journey, meets someone unexpected, and tries to figure out what the dreams could mean.


	3. Warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo has a few troubles setting off quietly, but he's soon on his way to Bree. Head spinning with questions and doubts, he meets someone offering answers. Maybe he'll change his mind...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! So, here's the next chapter, and oh boy is it long. More than doubling the current word count. *pats own back*  
> There were so many directions I could have taken this, and even after writing it, I find the possibilities increasing. Oh dear...  
> hope you enjoy!

_**An arrow goes screaming past your head, missing your ear by mere inches. You turn in shock, a battle cry rising in your throat as orcs pour from the trees. You draw your sword and dagger, and the battle starts...**_  
  
    Tossing and turning in bed, Bilbo finds that he can't fall back asleep, try as he may. The dream that had awoken him this time shared some surprising similarities to the one with the dragon and the mountain. There was also no denying the obvious differences. Once again, there wasn't a single hobbit or elf or man present in his dreams, and they had both been from a first-person perspective of what he could only assume was a dwarf. Both times in the dreams, he'd been in danger, albeit danger of a different kind.  
  
    Bilbo had never been acquainted with a dwarf, although he had seen them once or twice at the market in Bree. There was no denying their rarity in these parts, after all, what reason would a dwarf have for traveling so far from the mountains they call their home?  
   
    The sun was rising, and Bilbo with it. Shaking off the remnants of sleep, he bustled about the hobbit hole, gathering his things and making sure everything was in its place. He reconsidered Hamfast's offer to watch over the house momentarily, but he brushed it aside. BIlbo couldn't imagine being gone for anywhere near long enough to warrant that. And anyways, the Gamgees had a house of their own to watch over, not to mention a growing posse  of children.    
  
    Bilbo was just finishing loading his pack and pony when he turned to notice a small crowd had gathered nearby. He would've loved to pretend it wasn't there, and get going as soon as possible, but upon closer inspection he finds that a few of them have come bearing gifts. Confound it, more waiting and prolonging his departure. Still, he was a Baggins, and although this trip was catering to his more Tookish side, he couldn't stand the thought of disrespecting the crowd.  
  
    Dismounting his pony, he walked up to the mass of hobbits, holding up his hands to shush the growing chatter and rise of voices.  
  
"Now, I'm sure you all have plenty of questions, and as much as I'd love to answer them, I can't speak on this too much"  
  
    Many of the faces before him fell, and Bilbo almost would have minded, but as the true reason for his trip rang in his head, he knew it was best this way.  
  
"Where's Gandalf? Wasn't he supposed to go with you?"  
  
    Lobelias leering voice rose above the crowd, shushing them. Suddenly, all of the people gathered before him were nodding their confusion and suspicion. Blasted Lobelia, why couldn't she keep her mouth shut?  
  
"Ah, yes, well...Gandalf is...meeting up with me on the road at a later date!"  
  
His delivery was halted, and he cursed himself for not having prepared a more detailed story to complement his lie.  
  
"And where might that be? Bree? Surely you don't think we believe you packed all this up and got so prepared for a simple trip to the town of men?"  
  
    Bilbo was sorely tempted to turn and leave right that instant, but as he scanned the crowd, he could see a diverse array of faces. Some were dubious, and mistrustful, but others still were in awe, hushed voices and reverent stares. He caught Hamfast and Bell standing a little ways off, faces shuttered.  
  
 "Gandalf is busy with important business, and as such, he couldn't be with me at the start of the journey. I am to meet with him on the way towards Rivendell, and we'll go from there.  
  
Bilbo rolled his eyes towards the sky, shocked to find the sun already halfway towards it's peak. He'd wasted far too much time already.  
  
"Now, as flattered as I am that you have brought gifts, I really must leave as soon as possible. Could- Could those of you with gifts please, uh, give them to Hamfast and Bell Gamgee?"  
  
The request seemed strange to many of them, but the crowd shifted to face the gaffer and his wife. Bilbo shot them an apologetic glance, and was ready to give one last shout and head off when one of the gardeners children ran up to him, a lightly decorated jar in his hands. Bilbo shot his head up to catch a glimpse of the couple, their eyes catching for the briefest moment, Bilbo's confusion clear on his face.  
  
"Iss fer healin'!"  
  
Hamfast shouted out before his face disappeared once again into the crowd of swarming gift-bearers. Bilbo reached down and grasped the jar, thanking the young boy and giving him a pat on the head.  
  
"Tell your parents thank you, and to stay safe...and..."  
  
Bilbo had a strange feeling. One of adventure. Of fear. The feeling of a future bigger than himself. He knew now that he couldn't be certain when he'd be back after all. Once he learned the true meaning of his dreams, would he be able to stop there?  
  
Bilbo laid a hand gently on the childs shoulder, and whispered into his ear:  
  
"And please, tell them to make themselves home at Bag End, I- I may not be back as soon as I'd hoped"  
  
His voice cracked with emotion at the end, sending the boy off and turning to his pony so that nobody could see the tears welling up in his eyes. He was excited, but he was uncertain, and that was a wholly unpleasant feeling for him.  Bilbo mounted the pony, spurring her on as he gave a last wave out to the crowd, eyes lingering on Hamfast and Bell as he tried to tell him everything he had left unsaid through looks. He finally turned from the shouts and music fading behind him, headed towards the forest. He'd by lying if he said he didn't look back.  
  
\---  
  
The sun had begun to set, but Bilbo's path lay unchanged. The Old Forest had practically been his home when he was younger. He remembered journeys into the woods with his mother, hunting for the elves she spoke of so highly. Of course, all Bilbo found back then were toadstools and butterflies, but that never kept him from trying again the next day. Looking around at the forest now, he was having trouble imagining it as anything like it used to be. Those growths on the trees were just that, growths, not Elven living spaces. The holes in the ground didn't contain gnomes, and the various slow-moving pools and streams weren't swarming with fairies.  It's not that he couldn't find the beauty in the world as he saw it now, but that the fantasy his young mind had created and inhabited made it all a bit dull in comparison.  
  
    As the light faded from the sky, Bilbo set up camp, laying out his bedroll beside the dying fire. The nights promised to be cool, but not chilling, complementing the warm yet comfortable day temperatures. He found that the clothes he had brought were, ahem, not quite practical. This was illustrated when he turned his back on the fire to check the map, only to realize he had set his coattails ablaze! It was just another reminder that a life of travel, a life lacking in constant comfort, was not the life of a hobbit. After shedding his coat and finishing the meager dinner he'd made for himself, he settled down to rest below the steel blue sky.  
  
    Sleep found Bilbo surprisingly easy, dreaming of runs through the trees, pretending he was an elf on his mothers shoulders.  
  
\---  
  
    As the days went on, Bilbo soon came to realize that despite his tireless hours of planning, he hadn't prepared nearly enough to reach Rivendell. He'd imagined it would only take two or so weeks to reach the Last Homely House, but after a few days on the road and no Bree in sight, he had to admit that maybe he'd miscalculated. His food stores were running out, his horse feed was lining the bottom of the bag, and his lantern was running low on oil. His only choices now would be to reach Bree, stock up, and turn back...or spend a night in Bree, getting his supplies back up, and learn how to ration a little more effectively on the road. Bilbo remained dedicated to reaching Rivendell, and as such, there was only one option for him: to keep pushing on.  
  
Some time later, when the sun had long since peaked and dipped down to simmer on the horizon, Bilbo still hadn't reached Bree. For spending five days on the road,  he had hoped for the lights and the sounds of Bree to reach him by now, so that he may spend one last night with creature comforts. But it would appear that he had spent just a little too long taking down camp earlier that morning, and now he'd be able to, er, "look forward" to yet another night alone on the trail. Bilbo hadn't minded the past few nights below the canopy sky, but the constellations and the hooting of owls brought back memories of happier times...  
  
    He couldn't afford to get caught up in the past. Night was fast approaching, and although Bilbo was positive he couldn't be more than an hour or two from Bree, he was unsure what to do. He could keep riding into the night, lantern lit and watching for turns in the trail, or set up camp. He'd already waited too long, and if he were to stop now, he risked losing something while setting up in the near darkness. He'd have to push on.  
  
"Sorry girl, just a little longer. We're almost there..."  
  
    Bilbo whispered to his pony, but he wasn't sure if the reassurances were more for her, or himself.  
  
2 hours later, when the light had faded from the horizon and the sky was midnight blue, Bilbo heard it: The yelling and bustling of The Prancing Pony. He turned the trail and saw it through the trees, the lights an assault on his dark-adjusted eyes. The scene was a merry one, even from the outside. Bilbo felt his worries and fears slip away as he walked in, headed to the counter to discuss room and board.  
  
    As Bilbo talked about a room for himself and a stable for his pony, he figured a nice meal would be the next obvious step. Walking over to the bar, he was about to order when a booming voice rumbled through the tavern,  silence in its wake.  
  
"BILBO BAGGINS, AS I LIVE AND BREATHE!"  
  
    The hobbit in question turned, apprehension melting away as he caught sight of those grey robes, the twisted staff, and the swaying beard of none other than Gandalf.  
  
"Gandalf! What brings you here?"  
  
"I might ask the same of you, Bilbo. I heard you were here just a few months ago, dealing with rangers."  
  
Bilbo laughed, he couldn't help it. Of course Gandalf would know the goings-on around here. His seeming omnipotence apparently wasn't bound solely to the Shire.  
  
"Indeed I was. This time is a little different, however. Headed to Rivendell for a...vacation of sorts"  
  
"And a well-deserved one that would be, I'm sure."  
  
Gandalf's eyes were crinkled, full of mirth yet lined with age and wisdom of things Bilbo could never imagine himself.    
  
"Why don't you have dinner, and we can talk about this, as you say, "vacation" of yours?"  
  
    The hobbit couldn't agree more. After all, he was curious to hear the wizards take on his, er, "affliction" of dreams. But how did one start a conversation on such things? "Oh hey Gandalf, I'm having weird dreams about things I've never known or experienced, yet they feel real and weighty"? No, that would never do. Bilbo figured he'd let the warm atmosphere of the tavern and a refreshingly full belly ease into a more meaningful conversation sooner or later.  
  
Here's hoping.  
  
\---  
  
    Sooner than the pair realized, the tavern was slowly emptying of people, headed back to their rooms in preparation of their busy lives the following day. This left Bilbo and Gandalf mostly alone in the corner of the room, drinking and laughing merrily as the wizard regaled Bilbo with tales of his adventures. It was only after Gandalf touched on some shenanigans involving an animated piece of dragonscale armor that Bilbo remembered why he was even here. He was desparate to ask about his dreams, but he didn't quite feel like revealing that HE was the one having them.  
  
How would he get into this conversation...?  
  
"Say, Gandalf, what can you tell me about dragons?"  
  
"Dragons? Why would you ever want to hear about such creatures? Nasty and terrible, they are."  
  
"I mean, what have dragons been like in Eriador and beyond?"  
  
"There haven't been any dragons around for centuries, save for Mordor. That place is a breeding ground for corrupt and evil creatures. What would you like to know about them?"  
  
"Well, anything you can tell me. I ran into them in one of my texts and was intrigued."  
  
Gandalf was a little hesitant, but gave in.  
  
"Dear Bilbo, dragons collect treasure. First and foremost, their lairs and the pillaging that comes with them is all centered around gathering treasure. Things that shine. Things that inspire greed in weak men. Treasure for treasures sake. If there's enough of that in one place, a dragon is sure to come a' knocking".  
  
This was...a lead? Bilbo hadn't seen any mass of wealth in his dreams, save for the decorated and clearly very wealthy dwarf he had saved in his dream over five nights ago. Dwarves, maybe there was a connection between the dwarves?  
  
"Ah, I...I see. Thankfully there aren't any places nearby with that much treasure? Nothing that could call a dragon down on us?"  
  
Gandalfs eyes narrowed, however slightly, and he took a particularly long drag on his pipe.  
  
"There are certainly places like that all over Arda, but any nearby? I can't think of one. There IS Erebor..."  
  
"Erebor?"  
  
Bilbo pushed, desperate for confirmation  
  
"Yes, my boy, Erebor. The great dwarven stronghold. Dwarves are well known to have a love for gold and things that shine."  
  
"Like a dragon?"  
  
Gandalf shook his head  
  
"Not nearly. The dwarves of Erebor mine and refine gems and gold from the depths of the mountain, and although a fair portion of that is spread through their bustling economy, even more is left to gather dust in the treasure room of the ruling king, Thráin II. His line is known to be afflicted with a much more serious lust for gold, powerful enough to rival a dragon even."  
  
Bilbo had heard all he needed. A dwarven kingdom, set in a mountain, with a gold lust powerful enough to possibly draw a dragon in. There was still the small fact that there wasn't a dragon, though. His dream was not of something that had happened, but rather, of a possible scenario.  
  
He wanted to be relieved that it wasn't some sort of premonition, or call from the past. But he still felt as though there was something he was missing. Things he didn't know. But he had held up Gandalf enough, and it was time to sleep.  
  
"Much thanks, Gandalf. I was just, er, curious about dragons. The book I'd gotten from the ranger here last time had shown them and I realized I knew admittedly very little."  
  
Gandalfs eyes were twinkling, but Bilbo wouldn't say it was with mirth, or joy. His eyes seemed searching, curious. He hoped his lie was believable enough.  
  
"It's perfectly fine Bilbo. Any interest in the outside world is quite unusual for a hobbit, but coming from you, who am I to deny such knowledge? Is there anything else you wish to ask about? Anything you'd like to talk about?"  
  
Bilbo was shaking his head no, about to reply when Gandalf piped up, eyes alert.  
  
"Wait, Bilbo. You're traveling to Rivendell, correct?"  
  
The hobbit nodded, suddenly a little anxious at the look Gandalfs face had taken on  
  
"You'd best be careful, then. I hear there are Orcs roaming these parts, catching unsuspecting travelers. I'd urge anyone else to be cautious, but if I recall, you've got very little to defend yourself with. Perhaps it would be best if you waited until they passed?"  
  
Orcs? They had also been in his dreams! But he didn't feel the need to ask about them, having experienced them firsthand in his dreams. Nonetheless, he a little scared of the journey ahead now.  
  
"And how long might that take?"  
  
"Weeks, although there's no real telling. The rangers will only fight them if they interfere with these peaceful communities. Should you run into them on the road, it would spell disaster. I implore you not to go to Rivendell, Bilbo, if you have any self-preservation."  
  
Ouch. Self-preservation? Bilbo had plenty of that, and normally he'd agree wholeheartedly with Gandalf and turn right around, back to the Shire. But not this time. The answers he'd gotten, the knowledge of what Erebor contained and all the possible connections between his dreams and the mountain and the orcs and the dragon? He doubted he'd be able to sleep tonight, or go back to a relaxing life without knowing even MORE.  
  
"Gandalf, I- I've been looking forward to Rivendell for the longest time. Can't I go?"  
  
"As long as you are defenseless, I can't stress enough on your need to stay here and wait until a more opportune time."  
  
Bilbo realized there was no winning this argument, but he would never change his mind. All he could do now was "give in".  
  
"Alright, alright. Tomorrow I'll head back to the Shire, and I'll be back in Bag End before you know it. I can always travel later. But, do tell me as soon as it's safe, please?"  
  
"Certainly. This has been a nice chat, but I'm afraid I must go. Safe travels, Bilbo."  
  
"Likewise..."  
  
And with that, the wizard was gone, the tavern door swinging, and Bilbo was alone in the barroom. He clambered up the stairs, reaching his room and collapsing into bed as his thoughts rolled over and over in his mind. Erebor. Dragons. Dwarves. Orcs. What could he do about it? His dreams remained unexplained, although their content could be better understood. It was all so confusing.  
  
It was with dragons and dwarves running through his mind that Bilbo eventually found sleep, restless as it was...  
  
**_You were seated around a campfire, light dancing on the features of the dwarves gathered around. The brunette was here once again, laughing and spinning tales of misadventures past. In the corner, a seemingly younger dwarf with a bowl haircut was writing vigorously. Across the fire, you see a sly-looking dwarf with a pointed haircut, sharpening knives and axes._** **_Beside you is a much older dwarf, clad in a rather ridiculous looking hat. He's listening with rapt attention to the tales being told, often interjecting. You lean back with a sigh, head tilted towards the night sky as you make out the constellations, and wonder at the tales they might tell._**  
  
Bilbo smiled in his sleep, unaware that miles away over hills and valleys, a dwarf lay dreaming of _him_.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's some questions answered, but not nearly as much as have arisen.  
> I'm rather pleased with the length and detail I (tried) to go into, so I reckon most chapters will be around this long, until I get even more on a roll. Don't hesitate to kudos/critique, as it lets me know how I'm doing.
> 
> Think I'll do the next chapter from the POV of a different character, unless people object.
> 
> *edit* I've gone back and edited the chapters together, fixing all the continuity errors I could spot. If any more are left/pop up, please let me know.


	4. Weary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili and his company travel across Arnor, following trade routes. He dreams of things unexplained, and as he struggles to figure them out, his group grows more and more weary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter took so long. I've been so busy with work and the school year messing everything up...but no excuses. One upside to working this much is that I've thought plenty on where to take this. I hope you enjoy.

_**Your heart is pounding and your pulse is racing. Light brown curls hang in your peripherals as you dig through your bag, searching for something you'd almost not brought. Your hands brush cold glass, and you pull out a jar of white salve. You pop it open and the scent of kingsfoil hits your nose. This must be it! You can only hope you've got enough.** _  
_**You take off running, leaving your bag behind as you speed through the starlit halls of the city, stopping outside the medical ward. You push against the door with all your might, and tumble in to see elves gathered aroun-** _

  
"RISE AND SHINE, FI!"  
  
The obnoxiously loud and cheery voice of his brother pulled Fili out of his dream, accompanied by a smack over the head with said brothers bedroll.  
  
"Kili, I'll get you for that...in...f-five minutes"  
  
Fili rolled over to go back to sleep, but found that his pillow had been replaced with a bowl of soup. He sat up, locating his pillow and taking aim, hitting Kili square in the face. It was with a cheer from Nori and a few chuckles from Bofur and Ori that Fili finally climbed out of his bedroll, yawning as he stretched. That dream had certainly been weird. Not only did he not recognize where he'd been, but brown curls? Nobody in present company had such hair. Fili wracked his mind trying to figure out who he'd been in his dream, (could he even call it his dream if he wasn't anywhere in it?) and when camp had been packed up and his company was ready to set out, he was no closer to finding an answer.  
  
As the day wore on, Fili grew increasingly bothered by the new and inexplicable nature of his dream. Although he tried his best not to show it, Kili caught on rather soon.  
  
"Something on your mind, Fi?"  
  
Fili slowed his horse down, setting it apace with his brothers. He knew there would be no avoiding him once the question had been asked.  
  
"No...not particularly." Fili replied lamely. "I did have the strangest dream earlier this morning, though."  
  
Kili's eyebrows shot up, his lips quirking.  
  
"Not that sort of dream, Ki!" he said with a pout. "It was...well, it was nothing I'd ever seen or recognized. There were elves, an-"  
  
"Really? In what context?" Kili butt in. "You'd best not let anyone else hear you were dreaming of Elves." He spoke in a sing-songy voice, but his eyes showed an honest interest, clouded with slight concern.  
  
The blond heaved a great sigh, only narrowly avoiding rolling his eyes.  
  
"You're the only person I'd speak of such things to, you know. The elves weren't the focus of the dream, I think, so I'm not that worried. It's just...been a while since I've been so completely lost, in my dreams OR the waking world."  
  
Kili nodded, his brow furrowed. Leaning over in his saddle, he spoke into his brothers ear:  
  
"If anything new pops up, you'll tell me, right? I'll let you know if I recognize something you might not."  
  
The words brought a smile to Fili's face, and as he nodded his assent, he knew he'd have time to figure it all out sooner or later.  
\---  
    Days passed before Fili was forced to think on his dream once more. He and his company had been eastbound to Erebor since they left the Blue Mountains, leading them through the ruins of Annuminas and around the remains of Fornost. The group had left well over two months ago, heading to Erebor on important business regarding orc movements and their interference with trade routes, and they'd been making steadfast progress. Nonetheless, the group was beginning to feel the wear and tear of their time on the road, the days blending together and everyone aching for relief.  
  
    When Nori attempted to voice this concern, in an...erm...less than considerate manner, Fili flat out ignored him. Only once Bofur brought it up around the campfire one night did the prince finally recognize that action must be taken. Together, the company decided it would be best if they headed down past Weathertop and set course through to Rivendell. It was clear if they kept going the way they had planned, skirting around the misty mountains and approaching Mirkwood from the north, that the journey would be needlessly stretched out. After all, none of the orc patterns indicated an interest in the northern areas of Arnor.  
  
    Only once the plans had been finalised did Fili recall his prior dream. Elves, athelas ointment, and some sort of emergency? All he could come up with at this point were the different Elven kingdoms he'd traveled to with his uncle and brother in years past. The Elvenking's Halls were much too cold, and lacked the abundance of moonlight he had seen, and the dream was missing the beautiful forested ambience and landscape of Lorien.  
  
    Fili thought he had heard the low roar of a waterfall in the background of his dream, but he couldn't be sure. Either way, only Rivendell remained as a possible setting for his dream. FIli knew he was taking a chance on this, but he justified it as being efficient, and refused to torment himself further with thoughts of that matter.  
  
\---  
  
    Once the group reached the East Road, tensions grew with each passing day. The news of recent attacks, as well as rumors of much worse, were not resting well with the collection of dwarves.  
  
    It was midsummer, the company having departed the blue mountains at the end of spring for optimal traveling conditions. Every day where nothing of importance happened did little to settle the group, and knowing the threat that lay in these hills and plains only made it worse.  
  
    After weeks of travel, Fili and the company reached the Last Bridge, with only the Trollshaws blocking them from Rivendell. Within a week, they'd be able to rest before the last stretch through the Misty Mountains, Mirkwood, and finally to Erebor. Ori had been taking routine notes, his avid curiosity never quenched by the increasingly dull journey ahead. Nori had long since given up re-sharpening the groups weapons, as they had yet to encounter anything worse than a wild boar. Bofur and the princes tried their best to keep the atmosphere alive with stories and jokes, and it...worked to an extent.  
  
    The group had just crossed the last bridge, heading into the forest, when the path branched off. To their right, due south, there were many downed trees. The woods seemed a little too thick to traverse with their steeds, and there was evidently no quick and easy way around the blockage in the road. Upon closer inspection, the nearby tree stumps seemed much too clean-cut to have been an accident. This revelation set the group on high alert, the group collectively realizing that this was either raider or Orc activity, no doubt.  
  
    Bofur pointed out that there was another trail, branching off from the river and heading east. Fili noted that this path seemed rather freshly trampled, and, figuring it was a trap, voiced his concerns to the company.  
  
"This is open and shut. Orcs must've passed through here, downing these trees and blocking this path. If we follow the trail into the woods, we could easily be ambushed."  
  
"Well what else are we supposed to do? Move all these trees ourselves?" Nori snorted, indignant. "We may as well just follow the main road inward and get ourselves jumped"  
  
"No! Of course not. I'm just s-" Fili started, before being cut off by Bofur  
  
"Maybe we won't have to...these seem stacked rather loosely. Reckon if we pull one away, the others might come easily?"  
  
    That got Fili's attention, as well as everyone else in the group. As Ori and Bofur went forward to investigate further, Nori and the princes stayed back and took stock.  
  
"We're running low on supplies. If we'd stayed our course and aimed north around the Misty Mountains, we would have reached the rangers outpost by now." Nori jabbed.  
  
"But there aren't any problems up north. Wasn't the point of this trip to prevent orcs from messing with our trade routes? Although, in our current state, with these supplies, all we can do is investigate the orcs. If we ARE attacked or forced to fight soon, and we suffer heavy damages, we will not have resources enough to recover or continue to Erebor" Kili retorted.  
  
"I mean, yea, but we could've stocked up and then followed the Misty Mountains down to Rivendell."  
  
The princes had to agree that that might have made more sense, but...  
  
"Hindsight is 20/20. We all agreed to head southeast, remember? Don't backpedal just because things aren't going as fast as you'd hoped. It's not like we can change now. The best we can do is ration our supplies and stay on high alert until we reach Rivendell. We're only a week away, after all. Let's just focus on clearing one of these trees, and see if that won't get us further." Fili replied tiredly.  
  
    There was no point in arguing, and so the group began to make rope harnesses for their horses, hoping to shift the trees. After a few hours of pulling and straining, they'd managed to get a few of the trees lying parallel to the trail. If they went through one by one, they'd fit and be able to continue on.  
  
    And so they did. Once the group passed the fallen trees, there were many cheers and whoops and pats on the back. The sun was close to setting and they knew they wouldn't be able to make much more distance before they lost the light completely, so they decided to set up camp.  
  
    Traveling inward from the river, they found a natural clearing a couple hundred yards in, and began to settle down. As Bofure built a fire, and Kili went off to hunt for dinner, Nori sat down and began to sharpen their axes and knives. Cutting the ropes and chopping the branches off of the trees had dulled their weapons, and it was refreshing to finally have a reason to maintain them. Once Kili had returned, a rather large buck in tow, the group gathered around the fire for dinner. The brunette spoke of past experiences, misadventures of himself and his brother when they were but young dwarves in their Grand-Uncle's Halls. Nori continued to sharpen their tools, often interjecting with a few tales or additions of his own. Ori, of course, was writing all about how they'd cleared the trees and who knows what else.  
  
    Their success tonight had cheered the group up immensely. The feeling of finally having accomplished something, as well as the knowledge that they were close to catching a break, had everyone in high spirits. Fili tuned out the (slightly exaggerated) tales of his brother, and leaned back, sighing. He gazed up at the sky, drawing lines between the constellations. When the group finally packed it in for the night, the prince fell asleep wondering what sort of things the stars above him must have witnessed.    
  
**_Darkness surrounds you. The drip-drip of water echoes off the walls, and as you look around, you realize you're in a subterranean cave. Above, you can see a patchwork of wood and stone latched onto the walls, and can hear the low hum of many voices far away. There is a goblin lying on the ground nearby, and a scuffling, rasping sound up ahead._**  
  
**_You reach for your weapon, pulling out an elegantly carved elvish shortsword, barely any larger than a letter opener. It's glowing a bright blue, and you don't feel comfortable using it, As the sound grows closer, you know you're running out of options._**  
  
**_Heart racing, you lay down and hide under some overly large mushrooms, steadying your breath. The noise get louder, and you make out its origin: a creature, ugly and bent and withered, talking to itself and moving erratically. As it approaches, it takes a rock in its hands and proceeds to brain the goblin with it._**  
  
**_What have you gotten yourself into?_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats Kili. If you'd waited even a moment longer, Fili would have stopped a lot of future plot.  
> Hmm. Two visions? Set where? Gah, it's all so confusing.
> 
> Don't worry Fili, answers are closer than you think.
> 
> *Urgent* update: so I was biking and took a rather severe fall. I flipped over the handlebars and landed hard on my wrists, spraining+fracturing both as well as spraining my shoulder. I had most of chapter V written but I can't type at all now. Sorry guys. I'll try and push the next chapter out when I can.


End file.
